Where are we?
by Eternal Ending
Summary: There are many stories about fans falling into Alagaesia, but none of the charactors into our world. Till now. When Eragon Saphira & evil come to earth,choas ensures. Now Eragon will battle evil in an unfamilar world. On the way,he befriends CP himsef R
1. How it all started

"This is the end. The end of all your tyranny, Galbatorix!" Eragon cried. The battle had been long and grueling, but with the help of the Varden wearing him down, Eragon now stood over Galbatorix, victorious at last. His leg pinned him as the sword lowered for the final blow. From above, Saphira was in a likewise situation. She had Shruikan blooded and barely afloat. Galbatorix, though tired, seemed unfazed.

With a cold laugh, he replied, "No, Rider. You shall join your brother in his servitude. I shall never fall…not so long as your brother serves me."

Eragon gave him a puzzled look. It was true that Murtagh seemed to have disappeared in the midst of all the fighting. Giving a worried glance to the area around him, Eragon asked, "What do you mean?"

"Why ruin the fun and tell you?" Galbatorix mocked.

To this, Eragon pricked the Rider King's neck, threatening, "I could do it, you know. I could kill you right now and be over with it. Your troops would give up the fighting. And we shall have peace. But I am curious, how can you possibly still think you have the upper hand?"

"I'll show you. Ertla!" Galbatorix suddenly barked. At first nothing happened. Then there came a titanic boom chased by a thread of green lightning. But instead of retreating like normal lightning, this lightning gathered in an oval along the floor of the courtyard. It swam like a metallic pool, swirling around and around. Eragon found he couldn't move a muscle. It was as if he was in the sight of a Ra'zac.

"What sort of magic is this?" Eragon groweled, puzzled as to why he couldn't even turn his head to look at the Rider King, just that pool.

"The likes of which the world has never seen…"Galbatorix hissed out. Then he addressed someone Eragon could not see, "Nice for you to join us, boy. Just in the nick of time, too. Just like you. Who do you think you are anyway? No matter. Now's the time. Push him in."

What Eragon could not see was the smirk Murtagh had on his face. He unsheathed Zar'roc. The red blade gleefully reflected the blood driping down a wound on the Rider King's head. "I think not. I have but to distract you and Eragon can kill you. You can only up hold the memorize part for so long." Eragon snickered. It was true. Even now, he felt the magic which held him lessening. Though the pool didn't even shiver. _What is that thing?_

"Tith'r manou! I command you to knock him in!" Murtagh fought the Rider King's knowledge of his true name. But his legs would not listen to his will. He took one, resistant step towards the two.

"No." he growled. Each hesitant step could be counted by this word. "No. No. No. No!" Just as it seemed he would obey, Eragon regained his willpower.

This, time it was the Rider King whom gasped the word, "No." But Murtagh, still under the control of his true name, continued to fight himself.

"Do it Eragon! Kill him now! Rend his bloody head from his body! Before I can…ehh…reach you!" Murtagh yelled. But the blue rider hesitated. It was all that was needed. Galbatorix had regained a bit of his strength, enough to be able to push Eragon off him. The Rider lost his balance, falling right into the pool of light. The last thing he heard in that world was has brother's cry. "No!!!!"

As soon as she felt her rider's worry, Saphira began to dive towards him. Suddenly, she could barely feel his presence at all. Then it was gone, but not before she saw his hand falling into the pool. She rushed after him, Shruikan on her tail.

"No! He must not have his dragon with him!" Galbatorix raged as he saw her. He began to close it. As Saphira saw it shutting, she sped up. Just it time, she dove in, the room left just barely large enough for her tail.

"I'll deal with you later. First I must gather my strength. Then, we shall follow them. Your precious 'brother,' is in for quite the surprise…" Galbatorix spat as he wiped the blood from his forehead. He smiled menacingly, thinking of how the thorns in his side were fairing. Murtagh simply sat, dumbstruck at what had just happened.

"I failed you, brother…"

Eragon slowly began to regain consciousness. His head spun as he looked up at the evening sky. It felt like the time Snowfire kicked him. He sat up slowly; shocked that he was in a much different world…

He looked into the strange place in which he had fallen. He saw he was on a hill top, giving him a great vantage point. He turned towards the setting sun and had to wipe his eyes once or twice to ensure he wasn't dreaming. Monstrous trees loomed overhead…wait, were they really trees? They were metallic in the rays of sunset. Little lights dotted them and there was one more problem with them. Most of them were shaped like perfect squares. At there feet, little creatures, like ants in the forest, scurried about. Most were metallic and were odd colors like blue and red and green. At their heads were lights, brightening their paths. They seemed to be always moving, only stopping at smaller trees with odd things that a person put in what Eragon supposed must be their mouths.

Eragon looked up to see two things. One was that Saphira was gracefully gliding down to him. It made him feel more comfortable to know she was here too. But above her, odd, massive birds flew towards the strange forest. They touched down none to far from where they were. Then more strange ants massed around them as they moved towards a strange, stubby tree.

Turning towards the opposite direction, Eragon saw a welcome sight. Mountains. They were monstrous as the Spine's. In between them was a valley resembling all too much his homeland. A river flowed out from between them. Familiar houses dotted the valley. But those strange ants still covered the mountains. He quivered when he realized that those "ants" were about a quarter of the size of Saphira. How people lived here with those monsters about, he would never know.

"Where in Alagaesia are we?" Eragon mused.

_Little one, I don't think we are in Alagaesia anymore…_


	2. An umwarm welcome

**Hey, what's up? Wannabeanauther here. Glad you guys liked my last chap. Just so ya know, this story has a lot to go. And for the comment 'bout it being short, check out my other story and you'll probably realize that that was just an introductory chapter. My shortest chapter in my other fic, Evermore(which I strongly encourage you read if you like my writing style) is C.P.'s chapter, where I use the real third chapter in the I.T. and that's only cause I can't legally publish much more on the internet…yet. Now, this idea is really developed as I've been so busy with Evermore, I haven't put it down. But I not only have been bugged night and day bout this idea, but I also realize not very many people have read my other fic. I guess you could say this is the story to make more people my other works read it.**

**By the way, I do not own Eragon, Eldest, or Empire(if that really is the tile) or chris Paolini. By the way, is anyone else ready for the writer to become a character in a parody of his own book?**

**So, without further ado, here's chapter two, An un-warm welcome.**

"Get the gun, Marry Ann! Here there'd be a dragon!" The eccentric farmer croaked as he ran around the barn while Saphira calmly tried to speak with him. Eragon couldn't help but chortle as he watched the scene.

_Sir, please. We mean no harm._ Saphira pleaded in a soothing tone.

"Marry Ann! Get my helmet too! Them space aliens'd be back again!" The farmer screamed. Eragon smacked himself in the face while Saphira gave a deep, frustrated sigh.

_Maybe it wasn't so smart to assume they'd all seen dragons regularly in…where ever we are._ Saphira remarked in a dull tone.

_I believe he said we're in Montanner…before you showed up._

Flashback.

As they walked down the hill, a familiar sight began to take shape midst the foreign things. There were farms and corn fields, sod homes and livestock. But the horse seemed less worked. The chickens more bold. And the cattle less common. Still, even with the normal sight of a horse grazing with a young foal, there came odd things. Wire fenced the livestock. Eragon wondered how it could possibly hold them in…till he touched it. It reminded him of that time when he first met Solembum. The item he had been holding seemed to attack him with mini lightning bolts. Same with this fence wire. Eragon almost expected Solembum to come up behind him as he lay on the dirt, dazed after touching the wire. But instead, it was just Saphira.

_Maybe that wasn't to smart…_She remarked as she laughed out loud.

_No kidding…_Eragon muttered before continuing with,_ I wonder if the wire's enchanted…_. _Perhaps I shall ask the farmer in charge of this field…_

_Well, his home is just ahead. Maybe we could…_ Saphira started.

_We? Saphira, I'm pretty sure they don't see many…or any…dragons here._ Eragon retorted.

_Who says?_ Saphira remarked back.

_Well, you want to bet? _Eragon mocked. He watched as Saphira shuffled her feet as she raised to her full height, obviously excepting.

_Name the terms. _Saphira said back as her lips curled into a toothy grin.

_Okay. I'll go up first, see if they're home. I'll signal you. Got it?_ Eragon watched as she hardily shook her head. She was a tough negotiator, but they had reached an agreement. Saphira promised not to be seen by any others if the farmer reacted wrongly. But if he didn't, Saphira had the right to remain glued to Eragon's side till they found their way out of the godforsaken place.

_Okay then. I'll be right back. And when I do this_, Eragon made a strange gesture between a wave and fist. "Come." He finished out loud as he turned and began towards the barn. Eragon looked over everything carefully, noting similarities between his uncle's farm and this place. A thick coat of grime covered nearly anything within dust's reach. The grass was a pale green and patchy but long in most areas. There was a long trail leading into fields of short, pale yellow corn. At first, Eragon believed it to be the work of a plow, but upon further observation, he saw there was no plow in sight. Instead, an odd, yellow and green thing covered the earth at the end of the tracks. Eragon could make out the words "John Deer" on it. Next to that, he could see a chicken coop, with the occasional anemic gold or brown chicken running out or in its entrance. Near that, he saw a large, red and white barn, which was badly in the need of a roof job. As Eragon kept on, he could see a small, white shack with the roof partially blown out.

On the small porch sat two people, an elderly woman and man. The woman's hair was long and white and tied back. She was thick and short as a tree stump. Her face was old and tattered and had two big spectacle-like things covering her eyes. A fluffy white cat sat on her lap. The man had a pointed chin covered with a shadowy, grey beard. He was thin and lanky as a sapling. His hair was a sparse grey and a big old straw hat sat on top of his head. He gave a weak smile at Eragon. His teeth were jagged and nearly brown with dirt. Eragon gave a slightly disgusted smile back.

"Why, lookie here, Mary Ann. It's one of dem boy scouters. Wha' cha' got ta sell, boy?" The man addressed Eragon.

"Nothing, dear sir. I was just—" Eragon answered, giving the man a smile.

The man stroked his tiny whiskers as he interrupted, "Hmmmm, how much dis Nothing be?"

"Oh no. I don't want any money, sir. I just want—" Eragon couldn't believe this man's stupidity.

"Well, what do ya want fer it? I gots the finist stuff 'ere in Montanner. Come un. I'll show yas." With that, the man simultaneously got up, grabbed a huge fist full of Eragon's shirt, and yanked him all the way into a cluttered barn before he could say a word.

"Take yer pickses 'n' I'll tell yas if I'd be a wantin' to trade yas fer it." The man began shuffling around, picking through what looked like an deserted city to Eragon. Cob webs covered nearly everything; from a small device covered in springs to a large, rusty item that even to Eragon's untrained eye seemed to not have worked for a long. The farmer shuffled through his things while Eragon watched silently.

Finally, he spoke. "Sir, would you know where we…I could get some provisions?"

"Pro-what?" the farmer asked, turning to face him with an odd look.

"You know…food. Water. Clothing. Shelter. Those kind of things…" Eragon replied quickly. The farmer scratched his brain for a second.

"Oh, you's means groceraies. Sure I's does. In that there city," he point southwest, "or ther'd be a small town between them there hills."

"Uh, thanks." Eragon said. Th farmer shrugged and returned to shuffling through his stuff. Eragon thought for a second about asking him if he'd ever seen a dragon, but then thought better. Even if people here did see dragons like Saphira all the time, Eragon doubted this man, no matter how friendly and helpful, was like other people. Did he really look like a boy scout? He didn't think so.

He was just about to turn to leave when he heard a sharp squeak. Looking down, he noticed a small rat, scurrying over his foot. He aimed to killed it with magic or at least scare it away, but he couldn't take chances. He balled up his fist, but changed his plan. Instead, he gave it a bunt kick. It screeched and ran away.

His attentions reverted back to the man. He sighed deeply as he turned to leave. But, looking up, he noticed a deep blue speck in the sky. He was about to dismiss it as a bird, but his elf eyes beat him to it. It was much larger then a bird. The speck began to grow, and grow, and grow, till it was too big to be a simple speck.

Finally completely comprehending what was about happen, he quickly tried to contact her. But for some odd reason, he could not reach her, but she wasn't blocking him out. It was like she was too far away to communicate with him, though with every second she drew closer. Soon he could make out every shimmering blue scale on her hide, yet he still could not talk to her. Soon he could feel every great _thud_ her wings made. Her wing tips shifted up as she descended, landing right next to her rider.

As soon as Eragon felt her mind, he screamed at her, _Quick, leave now. I have not prepared him. _But the connection he had to her was weak, so all that she heard was, _I have prepared him!_ So she stayed by his side as the rider looked at her in furry, not understand she had not heard and confused as to why she was not leaving.

Before he could say anything else, the farmer turned around with a long rusty pipe in hand. He took one look at Saphira and suddenly shrieked like a girl, which was surmising as his voice was deep, then he began running around yelling.

"Why didn't you listen to me and leave like I told you too? Now look at the mess you made!" Eragon shrieked, his eyes turning slightly red from the farm's dust. Saphira gave a low whimper, but she did not answer him.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Eragon glared at her hard.

_I said I was sorry. What more do you want? Like I told you, all I heard was that you had prepared him._ She answered with a low snarl under her breath.

_Sorry, Saphira. I didn't know. _ Eragon turned to the farmer, _What should we do with him?_ Saphira heaved a sigh.

"Get the gun, Marry Ann! Here there'd be a dragon!" he croaked as he ran around the barn while Saphira calmly tried to speak with him. Eragon couldn't help but chortle as he watched the scene.

_Sir, please. We mean no harm._ Saphira pleaded in a soothing tone.

"Marry Ann! Get my helmet too! Them space aliens'd be back again!" The farmer screamed. Eragon smacked himself in the face while Saphira gave a deep, frustrated sigh.

_Maybe it wasn't so smart to assume they'd all seen dragons regularly in…where ever we are._ Saphira remarked in a dull tone.

_I believe he said we're in Montanner…before you showed up. _Eragon replied, still slightly chortling.

An idea hit Saphira at that moment. She snickered as she suddenly lashed out her magnificent blue tail, striking the panic stricken farmer and stopping him dead in his tracks. Eragon ran too the man. He quickly felt for a pulse and gave a sigh of relief when it was revealed that he was still alive. He picked up the man's limp body, and carried him back to his rocking chair. Beside him, Mary Ann sat, sleeping peacefully. He silently left with Saphira playfully nipping at his heels.

Once they were a good distance away, Eragon turned to Saphira.

_What is wrong with you? Our connection was really fuzzy but a moment ago. Now I can feel you loud and clear, yet you act your age._ Eragon asked, clearly concerned.

Saphira sighed, _I know. It is this place. I feel here as if I am a mere animal. There's just something about it._

_I know. I could not use magic back there. _Eragon said. He shifted, uneasy._ I don't like this place. It matters not our promise, I'll try to stay near you as much as possible._

_In that cased, I am content._ Saphira answered. But she noticed her rider's attentions were not on her, but off in the distance. _What's wrong?_

_I feel him…_Eragon said bitterly.

_Who? Murtagh or Galbatorix?_

_Both…_

**Little cliff hanger at the end there. Yes, they are both there now. And I must say, hillbilly characters are really fun. I encourage any of you writers to make them. And it's decision time. Should I make this pre-Eragon or post-Eldest? As in, should Paolini have already written Eldest or not even began to think up Eragon? Please, I need help. I have ideas either way…**


	3. Who has the upper hand now?

**Hey guys! Sorry for not updating too much! Did say this was gonna be a part time fic! Listen. Maybe I did not make myself clear in the last chapter. What I meant by pre-Eragon was that Eragon tells Paolini his story and C.P. decides to try writing it as a book. Sorry for the confusion. If I do that, it will work out a bit different. But if I do it post eldest, I may just make it so that Eragon has to deal with fan girls and stuff. One more little twist will happen should I do that. Oh and please do assume that most of Angela's prediction has happened already. Well, better work on this chappy now. **

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_Quite, Saphira! I can't hear what they're saying!_ Eragon said. The dragon beside him had been shifting uneasily next to them since they had hid near Galbatorix's camp nearly three hours ago behind a large boulder. They had decided that without knowing more about what Galbatorix had done with them, they could not undo it or have any hope of getting out of here and back to the final battle of Alagaesia.

"So, where are we again?" Murtagh asked. He was stretched out on a strange chair with his foot on a log. Thorn was curled up around the chair protectively. Murtagh's clothes were odd. He wore a thin, mildly loose, button up, short sleeved shirt. Several shades of red its length and all the buttons were open, exposing a white shirt with no sleeves and a low neckline. He wore bluish grey pant which fit loosely around his waist. A brown belt clung around his waist with a large, dragon emblem belt buckle His arm now wore a new scar as well, an obvious testimony to his latest rebel. On his emotionless face, Eragon could see a small example of the pain he must have felt.

"I told you a thousand times!" Galbatorix shouted as Eragon observed his choice of dress, much different then in Uru'baen. His clothes were a loose black shirt with a strange emblem on them and similar pants to Murtagh only darker. He wore no crown. No jewels. No radiant flowing black robe. Nothing remotely like the man Eragon almost killed. In fact it was rather comical to see the king like that. Shruikan was not but thirty feet away with a crude looking color around his throat. "This world is called Earth. No magic exists in this world. This is why we're here. The way your brother came disables his magic; though slowly. We'll have to wait to execute our plan for his magic to run out." Galbatorix rolled his eyes at the arrogant teen.

"But he still has Saphira, doesn't he?" Murtagh hid a grin as he said this. Eragon had an idea of what he was going to say next…

"Yes, but once again, I partially anticipated this. There were only two ways it could go, and, because of you, it went the harder way. Though, still she too will have problems. Soon she'll be as brainless as any of the other beasts here. It'll all reverse when we bring him back to Uru'baen in chains." It almost seemed planned, what they had said. But was not confirmed; till, that is, Galbatorix looked right at their hiding place with a menacing, all knowing grin.

_He sees us!_ Eragon said to Saphira. He looked over to see said dragon was cleaning herself. Through her eyes, he saw every word was true. She was dumbing down as Eragon became unable to use magic. _This can't happen, Saphira. We have to resist it!_

_Ah, but it is. And, I'm afraid you can't._ He felt an evasive presence in his mind and stiffened, aware of whom it was. He surveyed the camp to see Galbatorix gone. _Who has the upper hand now? _His eyes budged as they set themselves on a black smudge high above them in the early light blue day lit sky. His eyes knew it to be Shruikan. With a deep bellow, the dragon dove through the clouds towards them, teeth bared for attack.

_Saphira! Galbatorix! We have to go now!_ His dragon had been blowing spit bubbles, but stiffened at his words. He knew she still understood; for the most part. Swinging his leg into the saddle, he tied himself in as Saphira's wings unfolded. _Let's go!_ He said as she reared and plunged into the air as if it were water.

Quickly they lost sight of the camp as the breeze whipped past their faces; but never the black smudge. It followed, easily keeping pace with the blue dragon while slowly gaining. Saphira roared as if cussing as another, smaller red dot appeared next to it. Eragon did something to a similar affect. The mid morning breeze on Eragon's face was the only thing in which kept him from breaking into a heavy sweat.

The mountains neared as they flew as fast as they could; land ripping from beneath them. With an extra burst of speed, Saphira plunged into a thick forest on the foot hills of the mountain. Hopefully they would not dare follow.

Eragon gasped as his body took several heavy blows to his chest as the tough branches hit him while they plummeted from the canopy to the forest floor. Suddenly a sickening crack was heard as a thick branch swished past his torso. He reached his hand down to the injury. It came back up with a pure red liquid on it. Blood. Pain over whelmed him as they landed heavily on the forest floor; stirring the leaves. He untied his legs from the saddle, falling to the ground as he took a mouthful of dirt. He felt ready to throw up. Unable to hold it in anymore, he let it out. But instead of vomit, a long, painful to even watch stream of blood came from his mouth. He plummeted to the ground, screaming and writhing in pain.

Saphira nuzzled him, gently licking the blood off his chest with her rough tongue in hopes of keeping him awake for a while and perhaps allowing him to get over it and heal himself. He gasped for air like a fish out of water. She tried to reach her magic, in hopes of saving him. But it wasn't working… It always had before! He had to get over it…

He gave a coarse scream as his body continued its violent shaking. Suddenly, he began to slow. Soon, he lie there gasping as he tried desperately to stay awake.

Slowly, colors began to blur as his whole world faded into black. Last thing he heard was Saphira's deep growl and indiscernible shouts.

**Sorry, a remnant from Evermore's drama show there. But it was necessary. I think I'm going to make a hell of a lot of twists as I usually do. But don't worry. Next chapter they are finally going to meet some more people from our world. It'll go over okay for Eragon. For Murtagh, okay. But I have plans for Galbatorix to get in a fight with a police officer! So, till then, **

**REVIEW!**


	4. Brotherly visits and demonic fights

**Hey guys! Ya, I finally have the time and inspiration to right this off-the-wall chapter. Don't really need to know quite yet what you guys think I should do with it. But please, I may need to soon. So give me some input! Or you may have to wait even longer for the next chapter! But, without further ado, here's four, White walls and siren calls.**

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Eragon winced at the bright onslaught of light which suddenly over took his eyes. As they adjusted, he was shocked at what he saw. He lay on a strange, elevated bed with steal rails. Hooked to one of the rails was a little table. On it was a brown bowl filled with some sort of stew and a strange, clear glass filled with an orange liquid. He supposed the table could move over towards him.

He tried to reach out to try, but his right arm wouldn't budge. He looked down to see it adorned in a heavy looking device of cloth and something which made it itch terribly. His left arm was fine, safe for a few bruises and cuts. One strange thing though was a small tube running out his arm to a small bag of water.

A chair sat by his bedside. He was boxed in a small room by white walls, with a strange box-shaped device and a small painting of a vase being the only thing to break it. People moved within the box shaped device. Eragon was trying to figure out what it was when he noticed something…else.

"Where are my clothes!" he said as he looked over the garments he wore. He wore a simple blue…dress? Its sides were tied up and it smelled of nothing he'd ever smelled of before. He frantically looked around for his clothes. They were nowhere in sight.

_This is all Galbatorix's doing. _He resolved. _But why would he take my clothes? Maybe to slow me down…_ he reached out with his mind, determined to find his best friend.

Then he felt a huge, familiar presence. _Saphira?_

There was no response, but he knew it was her. Suddenly, he remembered what Galbatorix said and cursed. They were still in this weird world!

He felt her sending him pictures, emotions. But there were so many attaching him at once that he felt as if his head was going to explode.

_Slow down Saphira!_ The confusion all stopped instantly._ I can't understand._ He could feel her high disappointment and quickly added. _But I want to…I need to know some things, girl. And since talking obviously isn't going to work, we'll need some other form of communication…I got it! I'm going to asked you simple questions. If the answer is yes, send me red. No, send me blue. If you're not sure, send me purple._

He could tell she was listening intently, so started with his first question. _Does Galbatorix have me?_

Blue. And with it, a wave of relief washed over him.

_Well then, who?_

Silence. Then he remembered he could only do yes or no questions.

_Is whoever has me from the world?_

Purple.

_Do you think they are?_

Red.

He paused for a second, trying to think of a few questions. _Have I been out over a week?_

Red. Panic showed its ugly head again in his mind.

_Two weeks?_

Blue.

_Good. Now Saphira, are you near by?_

Before she could answer, a knock on the door brought him back to the real world. The door opened and a woman in a sleeved white dress entered. She smiled at him as he looked her over. She wore a fairly plain hat wit a red cross. A name plate on her dress called her by the name of Nurse Mary Beth. She came to his bedside, heels clanking on the cool floor.

"Hello, good to see you're awake. Wasn't sure you were going to make it, but you're a real fighter, aren't you? Your brother's here. Would you like me to send him in?"

"My brother?" he asked. _Why would he be here?_

"Yes, he's right by the door." She motioned to a shadowy figure in the doorway. "Come in Mr…"

"Moore. Mike Moore." Answered the figure as he stepped into the light. Murtagh gave Eragon a snotty glance as the nurse wasn't looking. Eragon returned it as she turned again to leave.

"I'll just leave the two of you here." She said as she shut the door.

"We need to talk." Murtagh said, looking at the door to ensure it didn't opened again.

"There's nothing left to say except maybe this! Brisingr!" Eragon replied. A stream of scaling hot fire shot from his left palm.

"Letta." Murtagh simply answered. But Eragon pushed on, driven by hate not to stop. "Do you really think you can keep this up for much longer, little brother? Your magic is failing you; just as your dragon's speech is." Eragon backed off. As much as he wanted to deny Murtagh's claims and shut out all he said, it was all true. He could feel his magic, loosing. Strength, speed, everything. Murtagh smiled. "There's a good boy. I won't fight you when you're like this. Even though you're a pain in the butt. As long as you're in here, I called a truce. Galbatorix wanted to take you while you were here, but I convinced him otherwise. Said if he wanted full control of you, it'd be best to beat you when you're highest, not lowest. Then he'll know what it takes to keep you in control."

"Where is here?" Eragon asked, puzzled.

"This is Virtue Clinic. Kind like an infirmary." Murtagh answered. He picked up a clipboard supporting a large stack of paper. "And according to this chart, you're here because of two fractures of the humerus in your right arm, one break of the left femur, one break of the right fibula, one fracture of the right patella, and three broken ribs." Murtsgh gave a strange look at Eragon. He almost though he saw…concern in those dark eyes. "However did you manage that?"

However much Murtagh wanted to know, he could see two things indicating he would not get an answer. One was the look of pride on Eragon's face had returned. The other was that the nurse was coming with a shot of drug to allow Eragon painless sleep.

"I've got to go." He said. Then, without missing a beat, he added, "and when you feel better, do me and the rest of the world a favor and put some clothes on!" he said, placing down several clean shirts, pants, and underwear.

As he slipped out of the room, something startled him. It was that infernal thing again! The _cell phone_. He had no idea how anyone could operate such a strange device, but Galbatorix said it was necessary to blend in.

Somehow though, he figured out how to answer it and found himself talking to he that he hate most.

"Where are you, boy?" he yelled into the phone.

"Where are you?" Murtagh through the question coolly. He could not let him know where he was. Luckily, he did not pursue the matter.

"I need you to go and get something of ours and bring it to me."

"Why can't you?"

"Because…"

"Because why?"

"Because! Am I not in charge of you? Why must you turn everything into a fight!"

"Just give me one small reason."

"…I got into a fight."

"With who?"

"Let me talk, boy! Apparently we can't hunt without a permit…"

"You didn't…"

"He had it coming…telling me to drop to the ground. Me!"

"Hadn't you just told me it was illegal here to get in a fight with the police? You're just lucky he didn't open fire! From the books on it, I heard that would have been terrible…" Murtagh scowled. _Wish they had opened fire._ He thought with a chuckle under his breath.

"What was that you were just thinking boy! You forget I know!" he screamed at him in furry. Suddenly the line went dead. Murtagh turned back one last time at his sleeping brother. He looked so peaceful. For a moment he hesitated, then mumbled, "Ku ala um'hu." And with that, he left.


	5. Canned Soup and One Total Dupe

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. School's just so chaotic! Well, you may be asking why I'm updating now. Well, I'm kind of having a bad day today-actually a bad week- so I need something to get my mind off of it. Anyway, I have some news on this story. I'm thinking of breaking it off two ways. One for pre-Eragon(pre-book at least) and another for post Eldest. I'll try to post two chapters at the same time in which case; one for one story, the other for the other. Of course, I'll label each side. Another note, the war has been going on for a lot longer then it probably will according to Paolini. I'll also be explaining more on how Angela's prophecies were fulfilled later. Anyway, I'm sure your sick of me blabbing on and on about my life and thing that may happening the future of this story. You want to get to the action, no? Great then. Here's chapter five: Caned Soup and One Total Dupe. **

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As the drugs slowly wore of the nurse watched as her patient wake up. He was defiantly one of the most interesting yet peculiar people she had ever had the job of looking after.

He and his brother and his dad, whom demanded him upon his release, seemed to come from nowhere. There were no papers on them; no birth certificates, no security number, not even a finger print or an address.

He was a strange one, coming in screaming deliriously something about a sapphire and evil. He claimed not to remember a second of it. She simply supposed it was a product of the pain.

And no wonder! She had never seen such injuries on a patient without knowing for sure what caused them. One doctor speculated that he had fallen out of a plane or something.

But another disagreed. He explained there was no way he could have gotten such scaring on his legs from a thing. He thought it was some deranged gang move gone askew. They left him for dead, but as it turned out he was still alive or something. And maybe the so-called brother was really a gang member. But then, where did the strange markings in the sand come from?

A doctor she knew named Natty, or Nutty Natty as she was frequently called, claimed it could only be done by a flying beast. She believed the boy had been riding the beast and it had gotten scared and fell out of the sky. He got the full blast of the fall, according to her. When asked about the scaring on his legs, Nutty Natty said the thing could have had scales which carved into his legs. Some of the injuries were also consistent with the kinds of pinches people receive from a saddle when they are on a rampaging horse, bucking and rearing and jumping all the way. It was uncanny, how she could find a completely absurd topic and morph it into one which does make some sense. And there were supposedly burn marks Natty saw when rescuing the boy near the top of the tree line. They'd never know if she was telling the truth though, for that day, someone burned down the forest. It was strange, though. For it was only around the area were the boy fell.

They could only know for sure from the patient himself. And his word wasn't entirely dependable, as his memory may have been permanently damage due to his injuries. Though that was unlikely.

She turned her attention to the awaking patient before her. He turned and looked at her. "Who are you?" he muttered in groggily.

"My name is Mary Jones. I'm you and the rest of this hall's nurse. And according to this chart, you are Edward Moore. Nice, strong name. Do you prefer any nicknames?" she answered him politely. He seemed very confused at first till a glimmer of understanding crept into his eyes, like sparking stars.

"Yes, sorry my head's a bit fuzzy still." He answered quickly.

She knew he was hiding something, but decided not to press the matter. _I have plenty of time to learn exactly what that is._ "So, what do you like better? Ed? Eddie?"

"Either's fine." He answered politely.

"Now, Eddie, I want to ask you something. Do you know how you received your injuries?"

Edward looked like a cornered rat. He gave no answer, lips not even budging, like stubborn bricks cemented together. It became obvious she would get no answer and she sighed as though something had been confirmed.

"Well, listen. Your 'brother' and 'father' both want to take you home as soon as possible, which is today. They feel you'll heal better in your own bed.

"What ever you do, don't let them take me. Don't let them take me!" He cut her off like a knife.

"Relax, by state law, they can't. Your 'father' was arrested yesterday for attacking a police officer and suspicion of arson and has failed to produce any papers proving you or your brother or even himself even exists. Much less are in any way related."

"Well, can I go anyways?" He pleaded.

"I'm afraid you can't without someone to look after you. Someone in such a condition needs someone to look after them." He gave a grave, solemn look, like her very words condemned him to death. She suddenly hatched an idea. "Well, if you want, you can come home with me. My son just moved out of the house and I am very lonely without him. And from the sound of things, you don't want to see your 'family' right now. It could be fun…"

Of course, he wasn't Edward at all. He was Eragon. Son of Selena and though very distastefully, Morzan. Cousin of Roran. Unfortunately brother of Murtagh. "Edward" took a moment to weigh his options.

On one end, there was stay here, safe and sound. They could not attack him as long as he was here. But chances were, the second he came out the door, they'd be waiting for him, to collect him. He couldn't hide forever within the safety of the hospital. It probably cost money too, which here he was severely lacking.

On the other end, he could sneak out, find Saphira, and with their strength combined, heal his wounds and find a way back to Alagaesia. But this did not come without risk. What if he was too weak? What if Galbatorix found him before he found her? What if she'd been killed? What if she was too stupid to understand? What if he lost his magic? What if he could not heal himself? Finally, the most dreadful thought of all, what if there was no way back to Alagaesia?

And finally, he could go with this woman. It certainly had the element of surprise. Galbatorix and Murtagh would probably be waiting for a long time for him to come out. They wouldn't even realize he was gone till he had back a good deal of his strength. He could find Saphira and secretly heal his wounds under the protection of Mary. Mary also probably knew more about this world then he'd ever. It was the best alternative, hands down. But one thing bothered him. Could he trust her? The sweet gleam in her eyes said yes, but he had learned not to trust from appearance. From Trianna, actually, the little traitor! She had working or the Black Hand the whole time he knew her!

He decided to settle it once and for all. With a big sigh, he gently plunged into her memories…

Suddenly, Mary was being plagued by old wounds, long buried secrets deep within the confounds of her mind and heart. She saw a little girl, crying in bed, her father, zipping up his pants. Then the same little girl, a little older, watching as her parents screamed and yelled at each other. Then the same girl, a little older still, watching as her mother plunged a knife in her father's side and then into her own chest. The same little girl, only she wasn't a little girl anymore, holding a pregnancy strip with a pink positive on it, crying and praying for it to turn blue. She the little girl's son, sweet and nice and caring, packing his bags to leave to college the way she never had. Suddenly the flow of memories stopped and she quickly buried them back within the darkest reaches of her mind.

A deadened expression rest on Eragon's face. He would have never known a single thing like that could happen to such a nice acting woman. And she seemed so giving and caring. He knew he had to trust her now. He had her secrets without her even knowing it. So her tried to push himself up as high as his weakened muscles would permit and looked into her endless blue eyes. They were like the ocean, deep and rich with a beautiful kind of swirling turmoil.

"Thank you, Ms. Jones. I think I will need your help before this is all over." He answered.

"Great! I'll get your things. And here," she tossed him the clothes Murtagh had left him on their last visit. Eragon picked them up distastefully. "put some clothes. I'll check you out and get everything set while you change."

And she left the room with that, letting him change in peace. After some serious confusion on how things went on and a very difficult time trying to rustle his clothes over his many scars and casts, he finally thought he got it right…till Mary came in…

"Dear Jesus Eddie! Did that fall or whatever it was make you forget that underwear go on before jeans? Or that shirts are meant to go with the tag in the back? Now, fix it. I have one more thing I have to do before we go so, you'll be fine."

After some more rustling, some curses and a long and slow journey out the door, they were finally outside. Eragon was in shock. It was so cold he cold, he could see his breath. He shook slightly. Mary took notice of this and frowned. She handed him a thick wool jacket and he silently but gratefully put it on.

He looked around and felt comforted to see he'd made it! He was near the top of a mountain. A massive valley extended bellow him. In it were several small developments and a large, beautiful lake. Suddenly he knew where Saphira was. She'd blend in perfectly down there and not too many people would notice missing fish as they would game.

As before, rainbow ants trudged up the mountain, with greater distances between each one then before though. One sped up the mountainside, passing every ant it ran into, blue and red lights flashing near its roof. It was obviously heading for the other ants stretched out before him. They were massive, all sitting diagonally in a straight line down a white pathway. As he watched in shear horror, one gobbled up a person, roared, and screeched away like a savage beast.

He cautiously followed Mary, knowing if one decided to charge, he had no chance. She approached a deep blue one with a metal key in her hand. It flashed at her hungrily, like the big disgusting beast it was. She went by one side, the beast responding by opening its jaws. To his shock, when she went around the other side, another mouth opened. Before he could stop her, she actually climbed into the belly of the beast. The mouth shut behind her and the beast roared to life, lights glistening to form an evil, gleeful smile.

He tried to turn and runaway when he heard her voice. "Come on, Edward." He could see her just behind the beast's eyes smiling at him.

"In there?" he gulped.

"Ya, does it look like I have any other car?"

He decided to trust her and against his instinct, went to the open part of the mouth. He slowly climbed in. It was actually much more pleasant inside then he had expected. The bottom where he sat was warm and made of velvet fine, despite his thought that it would be gooey and bouncy. He could feel its breath run on him, but he was shocked that it smelled more of sweet pine then hideous wolf breath.

The scent brought back bitter sweet memories. Of something he had not felt in a long time. Of love. Of passion. Of the days in Alagaesia…No, he could no dwell on it now. He had to be strong.

Suddenly it started moving. Only his injuries stopped him from jumping right out of the cars and running to safety. And he still hurt himself a bit from freaking out. However, he noticed something. Mary was controlling the beast. Much like he controlled Snowfire.

Only, this thing, a car she called it, moved move faster. Not as fast as he and Saphira could, but certainly much faster then any horse he'd ever ridden. He saw the countryside pass them faster then he could take much of anything in. But the truly amazing thing was it didn't feel like they were going much faster then he could run.

While he marveled at the car, Mary marveled at him. She got the sense that he was much, much older then he appeared, yet he held the world with a child's curiosity. Wanting to know more about this different boy, she tried to break the ice.

"So, where were you originally from?"

After what seemed like ages, as the boy was still marveling at the car, he answered, "A small town in mountains much like these, only bigger. It's called Carvahall."

Suddenly, before she could respond, something hit her like lightning in her brain. The image flashed for a fraction of a second and before she could read it, it was gone. Not wanting to worry Edward, she added,

"Hmm…nice name. How old are you anyway?"

"I have seen 32 beautiful summers." Edward responded.

"So, you're over 30?"

"Yes."

"I would have taken you to be 17, maybe 20 at best. I'm almost 32." She seemed shocked by his age.

"Huh, you look 27 to me." she smiled at his flattery. After this, things went so much smoother. In fact, the pair simply could stop talking. All too soon, they were at her house. She helped him out of the car and to a couch where he laid down. He was fairly hungry by then and she seemed to read his thoughts.

"Would you like some soup?" She opened a cupboard in the archway adjoining the living room and the kitchen. He turned to watch her pull out several cans. "Let's see what we got here…New England Clam Chowder, Beef Stew, Chicken Noodle Soup?"

"You mean to say that a whole soup is in that little can?" He quarried, eye nearly popping out of his head.

"Ya, never really got it either. But you know, it's a really efficient for storing…"

Getting over the good surprise, he simply answered, "What ever's good's fine."

So, the rest of the evening was rather pleasant. Eragon got his first taste of Clam Chowder and ate up every can of it she had, but was still hungry. So, she made him some beef stew and that filled him up.

After a warm, satisfying meal, Eragon curled up by the TV, finally a little sure of what it was, and watched it before drifting off. But he knew, in the back of his mind, this peace would not last forever.

On the horizon, he could feel evil stirring. What little cover he had would be drawn away as soon as Murtagh came within three miles of him and he was definitely searching. His oaths made him. War still cried out in his mind, though for now, its screams were muffled by the mindless noises of the TV.

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**Okay. Trust me. Mary and Eragon's relationship is going to be strictly platonic...I think. I am not 100, but over 90 sure it will be. I think next chapter's going to be the first one of many I split. If there's a number one and a number two by the chapters and there's two, I probably did. But I may also decide to go back and tell you the fate of Murtagh and Galbatorix...So till then...**

**REVIEW!**


	6. Of prison breaks and crossdressing

He heaved a great sigh. For a crazy king who'd been alive centuries without getting so much as a scratch from the angry group of suicidal rebels just to the south of him, he had a knack for getting in trouble. Said evil rider king was currently chained to a desk, screaming obscenities at the poor police officer who simply sat there with his mouth agape at the range of hypocritical insults he was receiving.

Murtagh straightened the fake badge attached to his chest and looked down at the odd uniform. It was blue and covered in badges and a heavy belt he rather wanted to through away hung at his waist. Problem was it fit in rather odd places and was cut tightly in some spots where it really shouldn't be.

He'd done just as Galbatorix had told him, snuck around back and found his way to the lockers before picking one of the locks and removing one of the uniforms in which looked like it might have some mild hope of fitting along with all the trappings. It had taken a few tries to get it on right, people in this world dress so oddly, but finally he'd done it and managed his way to the interrogation room.

Reluctantly, he opened the door. Galbatorix stopped swearing for a moment to give him a once over and fought a grin when he saw it was him. Murtagh sighed as the tired, over-worked officer gave him a short, happy smile accompanied by a nod without really paying him too much mind. Within seconds the man was gone, no doubt glad to be out of earshot of the horror that was the Rider King.

"Boy. You took long enough." He growled.

"Well, excuse me. But do you know how hard it is to drive? I mean, if I ever thought flying could be hard or driving a horse. Some idiot swerved in front of the guy in front of me. He hit him. Had to swerve to the side just to avoid dying thank you very much." Murtagh replied, unable to keep a little bit of anger out of his words. "So why couldn't you break your self out again? Not like your magic is disabled like Eragon's. You could be gone in a second."

"Because the people in this world are idiots. They would freak out and there would be a man hunt like you wouldn't believe. Plus they might trace us to your brother and they get him and there is no point to being here. Remember the plan. This way it'll just be another crime in a world of villainy." For a rash idiot, Galbatorix actually made sense, Murtagh reflected. Maybe that was how he got through the decades.

Murtagh un-cuffed him and threw him a uniform to change into along with the cop cap and a pair of dark sunglasses. The older Rider began to strip shamelessly in front of the younger one. Murtagh gave a disgusted gurgle and turned away, covering his eyes.

"Dude, warn me next time." He said gruffly as he turned back once the threat was over. Galbatorix grinned.

The two left without another word, him between Murtagh in the wall. As they passed the other cops, Murtagh could see out of the corner of his eye Galbatorix sticking his tongue out at one of the cops from beneath his cap.

"Could you be any more bipolar and immature?" He mumbled to himself. Galbatorix must have heard him for he gave him a sharp push over, right into the path of another cop. The two collided and Murtagh fell downwards, his face hitting the floor as Galbatorix snickered.

The stunned lady cop looked down at him with surprise. "I'm so sorry. Here." She extended her hand and he gladly took it, using it as a bracer to help him up. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here. Are you new?"

"Uh…Ya. Murtagh said nervously, wanting to just leave. Only Galbatorix seemed keen on staying put and making him suffer through this awkward conversation, confident his hat and glasses would be enough to hide who he was.

She leaned in for a moment, her eyes inspecting his badge. Suddenly a strange look passed across her face. "Imposter!" She yelled, the whole station turning to attention all of the sudden. Her hand flew to her belt, but she was too slow.

"Blöthr!" Murtagh barked. In one fluid motion, he grabbed a handful of Galbatorix's uniform and rushed him over to a table which he proceeded to tip over and ducked down out of sight. The whole station was suddenly in an uproar of confusion as the woman remained suspended by his spell.

One cop recovered from the shock. A shot rang out, leaving a nice pea-sized hole a few inches from Murtagh's head. "Got any more bright ideas?" He asked Galbatorix. Said rider raised the his gun from the utility belt as fired back, striking the man in the arm.

The next second there was another shot and Murtagh had to roll to escape its path. He gave a soft grunt as he drew his own gun and pulled the trigger. An unexpected amount of force sent him sprawling backwards as the bullet sprung to life.

Galbatorix snorted and let off another two rounds, hitting two more cops. One in the chest and one right in the head. Blood spurted onto the walls as the pandemonium continued. Now every man seemed to have regained their composure. As the chorus of gunfire filled the air Murtagh tried to catch his breath.

"Enough of this!" Galbatorix growled. "Malthinae." Murtagh quickly covered his eyes and ran as a bright, white light like a star filled his plane of vision. He vaguely knew Galbatorix was running next to him, both madly dashing for the door. A second later they were outside and Murtagh quickly lead him to the car.

With in moments, they were on the road, him driving since he was better at it. Galbatorix had totaled three cars already and was prone to road rage. As he turned on to the main road, he could feel the rider's eyes on him.

He suddenly let out a sharp, chilling laugh. "You know what boy?"

He hated when Galbatorix felt the need to tell him something. It was rarely good. He sighed. "I'll bite. What?"

"According to this," Here he touched his nametag. "you are officer Elizabeth Harter…"

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**I know I know. Way short right? But if you can't tell when you go to the Inheritance stories list, I have done a hellava lot of writing. Thanksgiving update. So I am lucky I had this much inspiration. So I will be updating again as a second gift to you guys if you give me nice reviews, so please do…**


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